BROKEN BLADE

by J. C. Daniels

  Their blood painted me now and dully, over the roar of my blood, I could hear Pandora. I heard her laughter…those bell-like tones. Ask not for whom the bell tolls…

  Silver flashed out and closed around my wrist. Another strand caught the sword.

  I jerked back and looked up as Justin rose from the floor, his clothes dripping with vampire blood. He barely managed to stay on his feet.

  Doyle pounced, landing on four paws between us, opening his mouth to scream in fury at Justin.

  Justin glared at him. “Not impressed. The sword is trying to take her over and she’s got a void in her mind right now—she’s vulnerable. You want to lose her to a devil blade like that, cat?”

  The words were enough to make the giant tiger look unsure.

  I swallowed and looked at the blade, threw it down. “Justin, I’m fine.”

  He stared at me, his eyes hard. Then he nodded and turned to face Pandora. I followed the line of his sight and found myself staring. Pandora sat on the pile of humans, all of them unconscious. Unconscious, thank God, not dead. She sat on them like they were some sort of living, breathing throne. Next to her, lying almost negligently, was a vase…and it was a massive son of a bitch, too. Nearly two feet tall. She held it in place, one hand curled around what looked to be a curved, sweeping handle.

  It was deceptively simple, black with images painted on the side. Images of monsters. Creatures of nightmares. The monsters that had broken me…and they surrounded a woman.

  Pandora’s Box.

  Doyle made a deep grumbling sound in his chest.

  Justin tensed next to me.

  Decision time.

  * * * *

  “Where is the girl?” she asked.

  I blinked.

  Instinctively, I flexed my hand and she started to laugh. “Oh, that’s so precious. Even with the bond broken, you still long to call it. And you have the stupid, silly blade with you…”

  No. No, I didn’t.

  I carried the leaf blade.

  I breathed shallowly.

  She knew so much. But maybe not as much as she thought.

  A coy smile curved her lips as she watched me. “Where is the girl, Kitasa?”

  “What girl?”

  She reached down and stroked her hand down the flank of the one of the humans she used for her perch. “Don’t be a fool, aneira. You know which one.” She rose and it was all fluid grace and boneless movement. Nobody should be able to get off a pile of humans and look graceful, but she did it. “I sought you out because I knew it would all come together for you. My wolf told me the girl was seeking you.” She looked off to the side and fury exploded through me as Gio came slinking out of the shadows. He went to his knees and pressed his face to her leg.

  That son of a bitch. Part of me realized she had compelled him, controlled him. And it didn’t matter. She stroked a hand down his hair and he watched her adoringly. The bastard had spied on me. Betrayed TJ. Betrayed all of us…and he was staring up at her like he wanted nothing more than to hump her leg. Pandora gave me an amused look. “He told me that you had this…softness for children. Then she came to you. I know my offspring, silly girl. I felt her there, and I knew. I knew it would all come together…for me. Because it’s your nature. That nasty, amazing luck.”

  I felt like I’d been punched.

  It must have shown on my face because she started to laugh again. “Don’t look so upset, Kit.” A smile curved her face. Come on…it’s no big deal! “I needed your help. And it’s only fair…all of the things I could give to my creatures and I could never quite duplicate something like that. How everything neatly falls into place for you?”

  “Neatly?” I snarled, damn near choking on the world. “You think my life has neatly come together, you crazy bitch?” Fear took a back seat as she stood there, practically patting me on the head like a pup that had done a good job chasing down a bone.

  “So touchy. You didn’t spend centuries trapped,” she said, ice dripping from her words. “I did. Centuries, Kitasa. I spent years trapped, my power fading away bit by bit, my body wasting away…then those fools take me from the witches…”

  She shrugged and looked at her vase. “They didn’t even realize what they’d done. Once I was out of their spells, I was free to come and go, but they didn’t get that. They had their own witches…imbeciles, all of them, chanting over the vase, like they were trying to conjure up the devil. I waited until I was alone because it was time. I had to find my new vessel so I left.” She frowned, a line between her eyes. “The world…it’s become so big.”

  “I thought the vase was stolen from you.”

  She blinked. “It was. When I emerged, it was in this dull little gray room.” She flicked a hand as though she was brushing away the memory. “A dull grey room with a huge lock for a door, as though that would keep me in.”

  Likely to keep others out, I thought. A vault, probably. A walk-in sort in one of the Allerton homes in the city.

  “But when I went back…the vase was gone. I hadn’t found the girl. I couldn’t find my vessel…”

  She looked confused. Lost.

  Poor thing.

  “Let me get this straight,” I said slowly, tightening my grip on the sword and trying to decide if she’d die if I took her head. Probably. Most things needed a head to survive, right? Maybe even all things. “You hired me because you couldn’t figure out where they’d taken the damn thing after you climbed out of it.”

  Pandora gave me another one of those inhuman stares. In the back of our souls, we all remember what it’s like to cringe and hide in the dark. We know what it’s like to be weak, to fear that dark.

  Pandora was the dark.

  “I think I tire of you,” she murmured. “I’ll find the girl myself. She’s of my blood, and carries the child of a cat, I already know that. If I must cut them all down to find her, I will. I have my vessel. I no longer need you.”

  Justin’s magic flashed, hard and bright.

  I bolstered my own shields although I didn’t know what good it would do.

  Pandora turned her back on us, chuckling. “As if I’d waste my energy. Cat…kill them.”

  Doyle growled.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  His growl rolled around the room and sweat dripped down my back, icy and cold as I shifted my gaze to look at the tiger. He lay low to the ground, body tensed and ready, eyes glowing as he stared at Pandora.

  She drew the vase down as though it weighed nothing.

  “I said kill them!” she snapped.

  “Kit,” Justin said, his voice ragged. “I have to—”

  “No.”

  I drew my gun.

  Doyle lunged.

  Justin’s wards screamed as the tiger fought his way through them and then Pandora’s scream joined them. “You stupid—”

  Blood, the hot, iron scent of it, flooded the air. Shifter blood. Wolf blood.

  Doyle took Gio down, his face buried in the werewolf’s neck and the smaller man struggled under Doyle’s weight, but he was outmatched in so many ways. Blood sprayed in an arc and I heard a heartbeat stutter, then falter, then end.

  Pandora bellowed and lunged.

  Doyle met her halfway.

  Please don’t die—

  Leveling the Desert Eagle, I aimed at the vase. How nice of her. She’d set it up and all nice and steady—

  I unloaded and watched as the bullets pounded into it.

  One.

  Two.

  Three.

  Charged ammo—but the vase was magic. Old magic and the first one didn’t penetrate.

  Pandora shrieked and she threw Doyle off. More blood; this time it was Doyle’s. But she had blood dripping down the front of her body and my nose had caught the scent. It wasn’t cat’s blood. Talon claws raked her face and there was a gaping bite mark in her neck, already knitting itself together.

  She bled.

  That meant she could die.

  She came for me and I shifte
d my focus.

  Time slowed to a crawl as I took aim.

  Es’s voice seemed to wrap around me.

  She hasn’t been of our world all that long…she’s won’t expect some of the tricks you might have up your sleeve.

  I pulled the trigger.

  Pandora stumbled to a halt as the bullet ripped into and took away the top half of her skull.

  I shoved my gun into the sheath and, without blinking, grabbed Death.

  His scream of joy rang in my head as I spun and whirled, taking off what remained of her head.

  The vase exploded.

  * * * *

  I wasn’t going to get sick.

  As long as I didn’t think about the fact that I was covered with vampire blood and as long as I didn’t think about the fact that Death was still trying to whisper to me, his voice louder than ever.

  “We need to move,” Justin said, his voice urgent. “Come on, Paddy. I know you’re tired, but we need—”

  A pale figure stepped out from behind a tree.

  For one second, my heart knew nothing but icy terror. Pale hair. Pale face. Terrible power. Vampire—

  Another ghost from my past came back to whisper to me…Goliath, his voice deep and gruff, his hands big and gentle as he patted my back and tried to comfort up on that horrid, hellish mountain.

  She’s going to remember this, every second of it for months, probably years. And if she can’t think back and remember seeing the box that hauled him away, part of her is going to wonder if he’s after her.

  Goliath had all but forced me to watch as they’d put Jude away.

  Jude was gone. Locked up for the next fifty years. Staring across the ruin and rubble at the pale vampire, I reminded myself of that. That vampire wasn’t Jude. And the similarity was only superficial. They were both blond. All vampires were pale, because they never saw the sun.

  And this man was handsome but he lacked the completely angelic beauty that Jude possessed. Angelic beauty, unholy evil.

  “I take it that’s Amadeus,” I said softly as he started to come toward us, his cloak flaring open to reveal a blood red lining.

  “You take it right. Has a flare for the stupid.”

  My blood roared, pounded.

  “I’ll have you both jailed for this,” the vampire said, his voice cool. “You had no business—”

  Shapeshifter magic prickled, rolled, the energy of an angry cat shifter beating against my skin. Doyle stepped between us. Gently, he put Tate at our feet and then he rose and faced the vampire.

  “I do,” he said.

  Amadeus gave him a bored look. “Go away, cub, before I decide I’m hungry. My quarrel isn’t with you. You’re just…in the way.”

  Doyle’s hands hung loose at his sides. A strange smile curled his lips.

  “Oh, I don’t know about that,” he said. “We’ve got blood to settle. You owned shares in a company that Jude sold a few months ago—Blood Games. Remember it?”

  Something glittered in the vampire’s eyes and a grin stretched across his face. “Oh. Oh, yes…interesting pursuits we had there. Some problems. We had to distance ourselves from it.”

  Something uneasy danced down my spine. “Doyle.”

  He didn’t look at me.

  “You didn’t distance yourself enough.”

  He lunged, going from human form to that awful half-monster, half-animal in just seconds. The laughing, taunting boy I was so familiar was gone, and in his place was a killer.

  But the vampire was older. Stronger.

  Amadeus crashed into him and took him down. “Stupid boy,” he snarled, slamming him down so hard I heard bone crunch.

  I tensed.

  Justin grabbed my arm before I could move.

  “Let me go!” I whispered, my voice low and furious.

  “Not happening,” he said, shaking his head, his eyes on the two in front of us.

  I jerked on my arm again. “Justin, you son of a bitch—”

  “Kit…” He looked away for one brief moment, his eyes grim and dark. “This isn’t about the vase.”

  I had figured that much out.

  “Look.” Justin jerked his head.

  I saw the vampires spreading out behind us.

  Eight of them.

  We were outnumbered. Cold spread through me.

  And I didn’t have to ask Justin how he felt. He was about tapped out. And this…Blood games—blood games. Jude—

  Understanding slammed into me. The Everglades. Doyle’s kidnapping…the days he’d spent as a prisoner. Trapped. Helpless.

  “He said there was blood between them,” I whispered.

  “Yes.” Justin’s eyes stayed locked on the two grappling forms. His hand closed around my arm and his answer came in images and barely formed words. Empathy wasn’t his strong suit, or mine, but it worked.

  Amadeus had made it personal. As long as we didn’t get involved from this point on, it would end here.

  Otherwise Justin and I were going to have to fight our way through the vampires. And the ones across from us were older. Strong ones. I could feel the weight of their years slamming into me and dread spiraled, climbed inside me as panic threatened.

  Justin’s fingers dug in. His magic arced through me, shocked me.

  Hold it together, damn it!

  I don’t know if he shouted that at me or if I did, but I shoved the panic back, locked it down, locked it away and forced myself to stare at the bloodied tiger as the vampire tore awful, terrible strips from him.

  And he laughed. The bastard laughed as he did it.

  What was Doyle thinking—

  But I knew.

  He was just a stupid, idiotic brave kid…who saw a way for us to get out.

  I couldn’t let him do this. He’d saved me once already. It didn’t matter what happened to me—

  Vaguely, I felt the weird, familiar prickle of magic. Although my mind was so painfully, painfully quiet.

  Justin shot me a look. “Kit—”

  My breath hitched.

  Light exploded—from Doyle.

  And Amadeus screamed, his body jolted upright as Doyle drove the wooden handle of an axe through his chest.

  Doyle…

  I stumbled against Justin as the shock slammed through me.

  Doyle’s upturned face…when I first saw him in that hole. So much like a face from my past. My cousin, Rathi.

  His fascination with weapons. That unnatural affinity for them…

  From the back of my memory, a moment out of time rose. Goliath’s voice, as we crouched in the forest, waiting for Justin and Banner.

  Doyle’s a tracker, Kitty. Almost as good as you. Never seen the like of it. He didn’t track you by scent. It was...It was amazing. I ain’t never seen anything like it.

  “Like me,” I said numbly.

  Doyle shoved Amadeus’s lifeless body to the side and with a savage snarl, he jerked the axe out. “Blood debt,” he growled at the vampires as they swarmed closer. “Fuck with me and the cats will eat you alive. Your house will die.”

  Blood debts, another old, archaic law of the council, but one they hadn’t done away with. Some part of my mind tucked it away—I’d process it all later. Much, much later. Doyle came toward us, still in his half-form, clutching an axe that looked like a toy in his giant paw-like hand. There were runes, I realized. Runes on the bloodied blade.

  And in his blue eyes, I saw confusion when he looked at me.

  “Kit—”

  I gave him a minute shake of my head.

  “Get Tate. You got your blood. And then some. Let’s go.”

  * * * *

  “What do you make of it?”

  It was the first time Justin had managed to corner me alone since…it.

  I held Doyle’s axe in my hands while the clan’s healer, Ella, finished patching him together. Amadeus had done him some damage and he’d lost enough blood that he actually needed the healing.

  “Damn it, Kit.”

  Slowl
y, I forced myself to drag my eyes away from the axe and meet Justin’s.

  “It’s…” I stopped and rubbed a hand over my face. “There’s power in it. The runes are familiar, although they aren’t exactly like mine. The weapons come down a family line and these are...” I touched one of them, felt the answering burn of magic. It was alien and didn’t like me touching it. No. Not it. He. He didn’t like me touching him. “Think of them as family crests. Somebody meant for Doyle to have this. But I don’t know who. One of my aunts, my grandmother, even my cousins could have read this, told you who his family is. I can’t. None of that even matters, though. Because the axe is his. He calls Doyle…and Doyle calls him.”

  “Calls him.” Justin turned his head and stared at the young man on the bed. He was pale, almost as pale as the sheets. On the far side of the bed, Damon sat down, his mouth a thin, flat line as he listened to Ella.

  We hadn’t told him yet, how this had happened.

  Did Doyle even know?

  But then I remembered the shock in his eyes as he came to me. He hadn’t known. At least not about the weapon bond.

  I hadn’t known. Because nobody had told me. Nobody had told Doyle, either.

  Like me…

  * * * *

  Once more, we were back in Damon’s quarters. Ground zero.

  “How is Doyle?” I asked, even though we’d just left him to the tender mercies of Ella and several of Damon’s bodyguards.

  Gray eyes burned into me. “He’ll be fine. He’s a cat, baby girl. Blood loss and an ass-kicking from a vamp isn’t going to slow him down for long.”

  Before I could think of anything else to say, the door opened and Chang slipped in.

  I blinked, caught off guard at the sight of him. He was dressed in battle gear, I suppose. Black shirt that hugged close, black utility pants that would have looked right at home in my closet…if they were an inch or two shorter and broader through the hips. “I didn’t know you owned anything other than suits, Chang.”

  A ghost of a smile danced around his lips as he settled himself at Damon’s shoulder. Ever the shadow.